He never complained about his team's bad luck or bad talent, never stopped playing the game for joy, never stopped giving his all, never lost his proud demeanor, and never acted like anything but a winner. He was a symbol of the Cubs' fans undiminishing resilience. If he could be happy to come to the park each afternoon, then so could we.

His wrists are the secret of (Ernie) Banks' success. Instead of taking the big Ruthian type swing of the lively ball era, he swings his bat as if it were a buggy whip, striking at the ball with the reflexive swiftness of a serpent's tongue.